


The pages of our Love.

by enigma_scars



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Books, First Meetings, I Don't Even Know, LMAO, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Meet-Cute, No Smut, Post-it Notes, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Read, Romantic Fluff, Smol Louis Tomlinson, Tumblr Prompt, books rec, characters read books, moodboard prompt, post-its, read this please, thats it, thats the plot, their jobs or anything is not even mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-03-26 14:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13859340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigma_scars/pseuds/enigma_scars
Summary: Louis’ neighbourhood bookstore has recently implemented a “Take One, Leave One” program, and Louis is delighted when the first book he finds is by his absolute favourite author. Wanting to return the favour to his mystery donor, he leaves the newest release of said author in its stead. When he returns the next week, the book is gone only to be replaced by another fantastic option – with a little note slipped in the front cover that reads simply “Loved your suggestion, hope you enjoy this one. –H xx”. Wondering who this mysterious H is, Louis continues to leave books (complete with their own increasingly flirty notes) over the next few weeks, until one day he comes to find his newest option includes a note that simply reads “Meet here Friday evening, 6 PM?”It's a prompt fll. I wrote pretty much based on this.





	The pages of our Love.

**Author's Note:**

> Yo!
> 
> I chose the books moodboard because I absolutely love books and libraries. 
> 
> Anyways, the story revolves around two stupidly adorable characters who love reading books suggested to each other. There are a few quirks in this. But otherwise it is just cuteness overload. I am going soft yall. 
> 
> ALSO FYI, they don't meet till very further in the fic. And even when they meet they don't like immediately fall in love. 
> 
> Awkward confrontations and a bountiful of OT5 later you can see a spark. yeez.
> 
> Good day readers.
> 
> It's literally 2:18 as I type this out.
> 
> HAHAHAHA.

“Hey, take this.” The guy in the horn-rimmed spectacles tells Louis as he is about to leave the library. It’s raining outside. There are very few people inside and there are at least 3 books in his arms. The pamphlet is glossy paper and colourized words and pictures. 

Louis thanks the guy and nods before he steps out, umbrella at the ready. He pulls the books to his chest, fixes his glasses and then tentatively takes a step forward. The first drops of the rain drizzle over his umbrella; the thumping rhythm makes a smile on his face. He always loved the rain; fortunately he wasn’t in a sullen mood like most Britons. He walks down the steps of the majestic Library and then takes a prompt left that led to his favourite tea-shop. It was owned by an old lady and her grandson, an Irish duo from Mullingar. 

The bell on the inside of the door at the ‘Tea-rex’, a clever pun from the one and only Niall Horan, rang and he is greeted by the warm waft of fresh tea and hot baked goods. It smells super good inside and his stomach grumbles in approval. He immediately abandons his books and umbrella on a table nearby and makes his way towards the glass showcase. He sees Niall manning the cashbox and greets him with a quiet smile and “Hi, Blondie.”

He is immediately replied with loads of enthusiasm and a toothy grin, and a long rant-like explanation about something Grandma Horan did in the kitchen that turned out quite nice. 

“And it’s like muffins but with vanilla, strawberry, marshmallows and whipped cream. I bet you will like it! I will get you one and a large Yorkie. Go have a seat.” Niall says as he takes the money Louis hands him with a grin.

“Thank you, Ni!” Louis grinned as he went back to his seat by the window. 

The cafe itself was very homely, with large windows and couches for seats, with coat racks and umbrella stands. The interior was all glass and mahogany. The kitchen was visible from the regular seat Louis took. He indulged in the obsession of watching the outside world unperturbed quite often when he found himself sitting at this exact spot and looking out the window. 

He looked at people and saw stories. He saw faces, and he saw souls. He saw a person and he saw multiple lives. He lived a life inside his brain always wanting to make the life of an unknown man within. He saw the world through a different eye. He had questions like why did the stars shine and why do we see colours? Why do birds fly and why do fish swim? Why do we fall in love and how do we fall in love? And he wanted answers that weren’t already given. He lived inside the world of books and wandered through the minds of many.

Niall brought him his tea and the muffin and he listens to him talk about a new painter in town who had taken a fancy to the town’s picturesque Library. He listened as Niall told him about how he was going to buy one of the paintings. And he often indulges Niall with a few hums and yeses. As Niall leaves him be, his eye falls upon the pamphlet he was handed at the library and reads it.

  
  


_ “ _ **_THE ENGLISH LITERARY AND BOOK SOCIETY OF BRITAIN_ **

_ READ! READ! READ! _

_ TAKE ONE, LEAVE ONE! _

_ FOR THE FIRST TIME WE ANNOUNCE THAT PATRONS NOW CAN LEAVE A BOOK AT THE LIBRARY FOR ANOTHER PATRON TO TAKE UP. _

_ STARTING NEXT FRIDAY, 02/03/2018 AT NOON SHARP. _

_ WE INVITE ALL OUR MEMBERS TO ASSEMBLE AT THE LIBRARY PREMISES TO INAUGURATE THIS MOVEMENT OF FRIENDSHIP. _

_ BRING A BOOK AND A MATE.” _

  
  
  


It seemed like such a great idea to Louis. He sipped the remaining of his tea and switched on his phone to see what the date was. Realizing that it was the 28th of February, he feels excited. It was only two days before he could leave one for someone to take. He wanted to get to know people by the choice of book they left behind. Obviously, he would not actually come to know what their motive was.

To Louis the entire ordeal was surreal, because books are a very personal thing. One doesn’t just read a book; they lose a part of their soul to it, even if it’s minute. And it matters to Louis.

Louis goes home running that day and  finds himself on his knees in front of his bed around which he had stacks of books, some stacked, some strewn about. He picks up one of his old copies of Charles Dickens Classics. He had stacked them up together and they lined held ‘A Christmas Carol’, ‘Great Expectations’, ‘The Tale Of Two Cities’, ‘Oliver Twist’, and his collection of Short Stories and much more. On its right was another stack of works by Oscar Wilde, but most importantly, it held fifteen different copies of the same book, ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’. He also had an entire bunch of works from Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte and Emily Bronte. He also had copies of books written by Lewis Carroll and Robert Louis Stevenson. Even then, he occasionally went to the library to read books that he didn’t want to purchase. Like he went and read a copy of Gandhi, from the library but never bought it. He often went and read things written by Stephen King and autobiographies of certain personalities. But he never bothered to buy them. He loved classics and other things as of that era, but he occasionally found himself reading stuff from recent writers. 

He ended up on his back heaving after becoming overwhelmed with the thought that he would have to part with one of his books. He gave up his search for a book after a few hours and decided to instead read a nice old book by Agatha Christie and warm his feet by the fireplace. He made himself some tea and dragged his feet towards the fireplace, his heavy duvet following his feet. There was a copy of ‘Cards on the Table’ in his hands. There was soft music playing in the background and the fire crackled in front of him. The rain fell in soft patters across his window pane.

~~~~~~

  
  


Louis rushed to the library, a copy of ‘Treasure Island’ in his hands. He finally found himself giving into the scheme and decided that this particular book held enough part(s) of his soul for him to part with them. He found himself staring at the library gates at 11:58AM sharp. He heaved a sigh and a gasp. He was actually doing this. 

He walked up the steps and found there was a small crowd forming inside. People arriving with various genres of books and stories to share. 

“What do we have here?” The guy with the horn-rimmed glasses asks him as he tries to manoeuvre his way through the crowd. 

“Oh, I have a copy of ‘Treasure Island’ by Robert Louis Stevenson.” Louis says shyly as he fixes his fringe and shuffles on his feet, book in hand. 

“Aah, young adult fiction. Um, I guess you can join that queue, right there. Also, take this post it. Write something for the other person. And remember the rack code. You can come back in an hour or so to see if anyone has returned something in its place. If you want you can register your name for the rack number, for free.” The horn-rimmed glasses guy says.

“Oh, I can do that? I sure would like to.” Louis says as he pushes his glasses back up his nose bridge.

The guy smiles at him as he hands him a form. Louis fills it for him and smiles at him before joining the queue. “By the way, my name is Zayn, Zayn Malik.”

“’m Louis. Louis Tomlinson.” Louis says as the guy pushes his hand out to shake his hand. Louis shakes his hand but as he moves behind he almost falls down. Zayn catches him in time.

“Thank you, Zayn!” Louis giggles before moving forward with the queue.

“Welcome, Louis.” Zayn stifles laughter at the stumbling boy.

Louis remembers his rack code which was 28 blue-green. Now all he had to do was come around later and see if anyone took the copy and left something in return.

 

~~~~~~

‘Seminar for Murder’ by B. M. Gill, alias Barbara Margaret Trimble  is lying on the rack three hours later when Louis returns back to the Library to check if someone had take the book. He had read that Trimble was an eloquent author and had written several award-winning novels in her life-time. Never having first-hand read the novelist’s work, Louis, though a little disappointed, picks it up and leaves without a word to Zayn; who just gets up from his place by the entrance of the newly opened hall inside the library and puts a small reserved board on the rack and smiles at Louis’ back.

~~~~~

Louis found out that the book belonged to a certain Harry Potter fanatic who had scribbled the words, “THIS BOOK IS THE PROPERTY OF H.E.S”, in very neat and beautiful calligraphy handwriting on the first page of the hard-bound book. And as he moved ahead, he saw that the book was marked with little scribbling, notes everywhere throughout, as if the person reading had tried to solve the mystery along with the writer. 

On the last page of the book he saw a small note peeking out. It was the library post-it and it held the words, ‘I loved your suggestion. I have read it before and I absolutely love it. Hope you like this book! Hxxx ;) ;)’

Without further ado, Louis tends to the book and sits down to read it and finds himself reading and smiling at the very thoughtful notes the reader had made. He sees how the reader guessed absolutely correctly the causes of death and reasons too. He reads with awe when the actual plot twist on the last chapter of the book had turned the reader crazy and also him.

And before he could know it was next week. He finds himself leaving a copy of ‘The murder of Roger Ackroyd’  by Agatha Christie. After realizing that his donor was a thriller fanatic, he found himself grinning madly at all the suggestions on the last page the reader had made for himself and marked a few meaning he either bought them or read them. He had seen that Agatha Christie was double highlighted but not ticked off, so he took a wild guess and left behind his book. Inside on a post it he had written his anonymous donor/donee a small note,

_ “Solve this, if you can! –Lxxx” _

He returns a day later to find that the book had been replaced by ‘A thousand splendid suns’  by Khaled Hosseini. And within on a small post it, it read,

_ ‘‘The past held only this wisdom: that love was a damaging mistake, and its accomplice, hope, a treacherous illusion’. I hope you read this book and fall in love with it. It is more than fiction; it is the truth of this world. In a world where we have lived through wars and seen deaths unfold with guns and bombs, there are still people fighting for a world they don’t have. I have learnt a lot from this, hope you do to... –Hxxx’ _

As it goes, one just cannot read the book. Louis reads it, cries for it, with it, about it and then learns new things. He has a boggled mind by the time he goes back on the next Friday to leave behind a book of his own. The post it notes acting as a medium of conversation between the two readers.

He leaves behind ‘1984’ by George Orwell. And leaves behind his own little note, 

_ ‘“Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing.” Psychology is a tricky subject my friend, but so are love, and peace, and war. This book is more than fiction. And maybe an insight on who we are as a society. –Lxxx’ _

Even when he goes back home that night, he falls back in bed with Khaled Hosseini’s book and reads at the notes H.E.S. had written down. He reads those and traces his fingers over the pages that are a little stiff from one too many tears. He reads those pages over and over again. 

The next day he goes back and finds there lay a very old, original French copy of the book, ‘Le Fantôme de l'Opéra’ by Gaston Leroux or more commonly known as ‘The phantom of opera’.

_ ‘”Il avait un cœur qui aurait pu contenir tout l'empire du monde; et, à la fin, il devait se contenter d'une cave.” A cellar is enough if you can fill it with love. ;) ;) ;) –Hxxx’ (He had a heart that could have held the empire of the world; and in the end he had to settle for a cellar.) _

The note inside read. Louis’ heart palpitations increased tremendously. He had purposely put off reading the book last to last month, but seems like fate had other plans. He was to read the book, original French version, suggested to him by none other than the faceless person Louis has been having countless, mindful conversations with. He felt like a kid back in school.

 

Next week he goes back and puts ‘The Tale Of Two Cities’  on the rack with the note simply reading,

_ ‘“I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul.” –Lxxx’  _

It could be perceived in  _ ‘n’  _ number of manners. But it was clearly a declaration of the minute (infinitely large) infatuation that Louis had with this person who scribbled inside their books and wrote down notes all along to help them understand better. 

~~~~~~

The notes kept increasing. And sometimes they were outright cheeky. Louis never thought too much of them. He always had something cheeky to say back.

In the few weeks that he and this particular H had been sharing notes here and there, Louis had grown a close friendship with Zayn. They sometimes went out to have a tea at  ‘Tea-Rex’. So the three of them had grown quite close. Niall always had something new to elaborately have a conversation about, and Zayn had a keen ear to listen to whatever he wanted to speak.

Niall and Zayn would converse, while Louis would sit and stare at the notes he got every week. He had thought a lot about meeting this person and finding out who they were. He fantasized about the person being a guy and Louis falling in love with them. But reality always slapped him in the face reminding him it could be literally anyone out there, it could be an old creepy man or a lady, or someone married.

~~~~~~

A few days later he walked in and saw that there was a copy of Leo Tolstoy’s ‘War & Peace’, lying there. Inside it was a note; it started with the usual quote.

_ ‘’There will be today, there will be tomorrow, there will be always, and there was yesterday, and there was the day before...”Meet me Friday, right here at our rack no.  28B-G, at exactly 6pm. I will be waiting. –Hxxx’ _

Louis’ heart stopped. Was he really going to show his face to this person? Somewhere in his mind he was excited but somewhere he was also frightened, terrified.

He knew it was irrational his fear of meeting this person with whom he has been sending and receiving notes back and forth. He decided that rather than over-thinking a casual meeting he should sleep on it and think more(less) on it later.

~~~~~~

Louis was dressed in his magenta and pink hued cable-knit sweater and black skinny jeans. His hair looked wind-swept and his glasses were perched upon his nose bridge. He was stood in front of his rack at 5:55 and looked around to see if anyone was approaching him. No one comes around him and he just sighs as he clicks through the apps on his phone. A few minutes pass by and suddenly the light coming from the front is completely shadowed as a tall person stands directly in front of him.

“Are you 28 Blue-Green?” The deep voice asks. Louis looks up and falls into a trance of two hypnotic evergreen eyes.

“Y-yes. I am L. I mean Louis. Louis Tomlinson.” Louis says as he stares deeply into the green, green, green, eyes of this kind stranger.

“Hi, I am H. Or Harry. Harry Styles. I am sorry, did you arrive early? Was I late?” Green eyes, Harry, asks nervously.

“No, don’t worry, Harry. I just arrived.” Louis manages to say as he notices the boy who was standing in front of him.

The man-boy looked aloof but not unkempt. The way he carried himself was a bit standoffish, but it suited him. His hair, though curly, was maintained in a small quiff upon his front, the bangs hanging from his sides covering his ears. He was wearing a brown fur coat and Louis could see his legs were covered in tight black denims and his feet were clad in brown Oxford's. The coat was unbuttoned and so Louis could see that he was wearing an almost sheer poufy white shirt, the neck was a ruffled collar and it made him look like a prince. The sheer fabric made the swirling black tattoos on the body stand out and Louis seemed mesmerized. His lips were bubblegum pink and pouty and smooth. His eyes were like deep forests, or jaded jewellery, or wet grass, or the overview of Central Park or maybe some wild island. The extraordinary thing was that his eyes held shades of baby-blues and minute golden streaks that made his eyes seem like an overview of our planet. 

In all, he was way out of Louis' league. But then the man, Harry, smiled and two boyish dimples popped out, making his entire ordeal very cherubic. He was bent down from the neck, but Louis could see that he had a long, lean neck. The man proceeded to card his fingers through his hair and in the process ended up revealing his ears, which in Louis' opinion were very dainty and small. 

"Your ears are cute." Louis mindlessly commented as they walked away from their meeting spot. Louis walked in tandem with the calm giant. 

"You are overall very cute, Louis. I especially love the sweater paws, if I am being honest,  makes you seem very...uh... small, and dainty, quaint, almost cat-like." Harry says, a fond smile taking over his face.

"Thank you, Harry. Where do you suppose we are going? As far as I know, we have been walking along this sidewalk for... quite some time." Louis comments, a bit of his cheekiness absorbed onto his words.

"I, uh, I wondered if we could go to a nearby café, maybe sit down. Talk about, talk about..... Things?" Harry stumbled upon his words.

Louis smiled at him in approval, a small pink tainting his cheeks. The thought of sitting down with Harry and talking to him about things felt like a weird subconscious, day-dream to Louis. A man, as charming and as beautiful as Harry wanting to spend time with his plain old self, felt surreal. "Sure, why not?"

"Do you, maybe, want to go to 'Tea-Rex'? I frequent there, quite often, actually. Lovely, lovely tea house." Harry manages to say.

"Yes, please." Louis replies, endeared with his choice.

As they walk, their arms often brush and Louis manages to catch a glimpse of a shy smile on Harry’s face and the small blush on his cheeks, burn brighter with each passing brush. Harry at one point tries to move away but the crowd walking alongside just pushes him onto Louis' side, Louis smiles hiding his face by looking down. The sky looks awfully greying by the time they make it to the café. Harry opens the door and holds it for Louis and Louis smiles at him and nods his head as he slips in. 

Niall immediately spots Louis and emerges out of his spot behind the counter. He immediately stops as he sees that Louis was accompanied by another man. The man pulls the chair out for Louis and seats him before seating himself. Niall approaches them and goes off with his trained lines.

"Welcome to 'Tea-Rex'. My name is Niall. How may I help you two gentlemen this great evening?"

"I will take a large Yorkie and one choco-chip muffin. And...." Harry trailed off.

"I'll take the same. Thank you Blondie."  Louis cheekily comments, grinning widely at Niall.

"Coming right back, sir and you tiny brat." Niall says, poking his tongue out before he walks away, looking back over his shoulder to wink at Louis.

"You are a regular, I will take it." Harry says, smiling fondly. "How come I never see you? I am always around." 

"I always sit there, near that window. It's my hideaway. I always come at very weird times. If you are working, like proper corporate working and are around in the morning or late evenings, it's quite obvious you won't catch me. I wake up late and then come here first thing, every morning. And in the evenings, if I come out, which I rarely do, you will catch me here. But otherwise no. As for Niall, we know each other for various reasons." Louis trails.

"No, I am usually around in the late mornings or proper evenings. I am an artist you see." Harry says, smiling softly.

Niall comes back and places their orders in front of them before leaving. Harry picks up his hand to take the cup in his hand and for the first time, that evening, Louis notices that Harry's hands were covered in small blotches of paint that stay behind even after washing them thoroughly, infinite times. His manicured nails, held black polish and were perpetually covered in a mixture of colours.

“An artist, you say? Would I have ever seen your works before?” Louis asks, trying to know more about Harry.

“I don’t know. Maybe? Have you ever been to Berkley Oak Studios? Or perhaps to the Art Gallery around Beauchamp’s?” Harry asks.

“I have been there, around Beauchamp’s as well as Berkley Oak. Are you the one who keeps on painting the city silhouette and the midnight waters?”

“Umm, yeah.” Harry answers quickly, someone actually guessing his painting’s. “How did you make that out?” 

“The H’s and the Y’ of your signature match from the notes. Your nails have black and navy blue colours. The nail bed is perpetually irritated and the curves of your alphabet and the curves of your watery waves are similar, they are a unique trait. You have also been painting the library in different shades, everytime a different set of emotions surrounding it.” Louis concludes.

“Correct. How did you…?” 

Louis points at the painting hung behind Niall’s blond head. “Your signature on it and your contact in the back. I helped him  buy it because it looked the most cheery, the snow, otherwise looks very eerily creepy or somber, but with you, it was all people and post-Christmas cheer, holiday and smoky city lights and the fog-filled streets and the snow-covered grounds. The tail lights disappearing in the smog, the people silhouettes, the steps, the lamp-post.  It’s the style of the new artist in town, the one going crazy over the picturesque Library. You.” Louis concluded, smiling softly.

“That’s impressive, Louis.” Harry says tapping his nails on the table, the empty plates and spoons clanking together.

“It’s really not.” Louis mutters, blushing.

They pay their bills, individually, even after Harry attempting to do so several times.

Harry walks Louis to his flat and ponders aloud, “I live around the corner. Maybe we could do this again sometime?” 

I would love that.” Louis says with rosy cheeks and a smile.

They exchange numbers and make promises to meet again.

~~~~~~

 

They meet 15 times with or without their friends and each time Louis feels himself growing closer to this Harry boy. It was almost October before any of the two had the courage to tell the other that they were into each other. Even then they muddled it up.

They were sitting with Zayn, Niall, and Liam, Harry’s friend, at Tea-Rex after closing hours and discussing the new plan for the Fall theme. When Harry and Louis both suddenly excused themselves and walked outside the café to have a chat.

Harry suddenly stopped and Louis followed suit. Harry turned around and looked at Louis with pleading eyes and Louis was looking at him worriedly.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Harry said, Louis nodded.

“I do too.”

“Okay, that good. You might have noticed that I have been acting weirdly for the past few weeks, or months, I don’t know how long exactly.” Harry tries explaining.

“I have, and quite honestly I have been worried about you.” Louis says, a soft smile on his face.

“It’s quite evident, isn’t it? I am just going to come out and say it.” Harry says, nervously wringing his arms.

The cool night breeze brushes their bare arms and they huddled closer before Harry looked Louis into his eyes and said, “I might be gay.”

“Oh.” Was all Louis could say as he comprehended the words. “I mean, it’s great Harry. I am happy for you.” Louis said as he saw the expression on Harry’s face fall.

“I am sorry if this makes things weird between us.”

“Absolutely not. A secret for a secret, Mr. Styles. I am very gay.” Louis says with a cheeky smirk.

Harry lets out a heavy breath he didn’t know he had been holding in.

“I am just glad, this doesn’t change things between us.” Harry says, relieved but still looking kind-of put off.

“Obviously.” Louis nods along, the confession clawing at his chest, almost on his tip, but his voice dying off.

~~~~~~

“I love him, Ni.” Louis whined as he bustled around his living room, trying to tie the bundle of love letters together to throw them in the fire.

“Then why in the fucking hell are you trying to burn those damn letters?” Niall asked, tired and bored out of his mind.

“Because he just realized that he might be, and I put emphasis on  _ ‘might’,  _ gay. And I am long-gone for a straight man.” Louis wailed.

“May I grace you with the fact that you are very oblivious to, but that straightness, mind the heterosexuality, could very well be a  _ ‘might be’  _ too. Anyone with eyes can see how much he adores you, how much he loves you. And I am using the big ole “L” word for clear emphasis on it. He came over to help your spring-cleaning. He buys you sweaters. He runs his schedule around you. He would drop his life at your call. Everybody can see that, except you. You daft cow!” Niall says dramatically using hand-gestures.

“Well, he hasn’t said anything to me.” Louis huffs out.

“Ever thought of asking him out yourself? “ Niall argues.

“No…” Louis trails off, now twiddling with the spare bit of thread.

“Problem solved. Boy, had I known homosexual’s have the same issues as a woman in a relationship, I would just hang about my Gammy.” Niall rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be mean.” Louis says when the door shuts and in comes Harry.

“Who is being mean to my Lou?” Harry asks, a bag of art supplies in hand.

“How did you come in?” Niall asked.

“Lou gave me a key?” Harry answered.

“I am going. He is all yours.” Niall says as he smirks and gets up to leave.

“Bye?” Harry says confused.

“Stop being so dramatic.” Louis says, rolling his eyes.

~~~~~~

 

“What are these? Are they addressed to me?” Harry says as he picks up the bundle of letters Louis had tied up to throw in the fire.

“Uh. I can explain?” Louis says as Harry unties the bundle and starts opening the envelopes. 

Louis tries to snatch the letters away from Harry, but to no avail. 

“Lou… Are these love letters? You wrote them?” Harry says as his eyes scan over the words.

 

_ “... And the way your eyes shine when we walk in the sun-lit park, talking about what makes you drive, I fall deeper into the green abyss of them.” _

 

_ “But you will never know how you make me feel just my holding the door open.” _

 

_ “Just last night I realized, broken wings hurt more than broken hearts. Because hope makes me live and your eyes reflect my face while I die.” _

 

_ “... Those lips I wish to touch with my own and that’s a dream, I think of when I am alone…” _

 

_ “And each passing hour I am with you, my heart weeps and my mind sneers, for I can never have you. You are so close and yet so far.” _

 

“Haz, I-I, um, please can you let me explain?” Louis tries, tears about to fall from his eyes.

“Explain what Louis? That you have been in love with me? That I have been trying to give you signals that I am interested and yet you never act upon them. That secretly we have both been hurting because we are two dumb boys? What? What will you explain? Tell me Louis?” Harry says, emotionlessly.

“Are you telling me you like me?” Louis picks up.

“Like you? Louis I love you. That’s why I tried hinting that I was gay. I wasn’t coming out to you. And I have never been straight to be frank. Your confirmation that you were gay too was an arrow to my heart because I thought you weren’t interested in me. Because I have been hinting on it forever. I liked you ever since you wrote me that note. And even more so after I met you. Wasn’t it clear?” Harry confessed.

‘Have I actually been blind all this time?’ Louis thought.

“Harry… I am sorry. That’s all I can say. But I truly love you. Like a lot. Like an immeasurable bounty of love that’s there just for your taking. Wait, I love you. That’s it. I love you. God damn it! Was it that difficult, no? Am I an idiot, yes! Harry I lov-” The words get muffled as Harry lunges forward and puts his mouth on Louis’ swallowing any words that were about to be spoken. 

Louis felt himself lose his senses as the warm feeling of Harry’s tongue barged into his mouth, all around him were blossoms and chocolate, the air was the essence of Harry and all words to wax poetic for that moment were lost to the connection of their souls through their lips.

Harry was holding Louis’ cheeks and Louis pushed his hands so that they were gripping Harry’s shoulders. The room temperature had risen dramatically.

The oxygen was rapidly diminishing from their lungs but this was a humble sacrifice for the moment that elongated their adjoined mouths.

Louis broke apart and pushed Harry in the chest.

“You idiot. I was confessing my lov-” Louis couldn’t catch a break as Harry didn’t let him complete the sentence. Harry just pulled Louis down with him so that he was lying down on the couch with Louis in his lap as they kissed hungrily. Hands were grabbing skin and fingers were carding through hair. The touch on bare skin was like ice and fire.

Tongues slided over each other and massaged the wet muscles together. It was filthy and erotic but sweet like nectar. The night had taken the turn for the better.

~~~~~~

“Looks and smells like wild sex. Why am I delivering breakfast here?” Liam asks as soon as he enters the room. Louis was asleep, naked on the bed, his dignity covered by his white duvet.

“Because you are my best mate and I am too tired.” Harry answers to Liam from where he was lying next to Louis, partially covered by the same duvet.

“Next time, Niall’s the one coming here.” Liam grunts as he puts the breakfast on the ottoman and begins to leave.

“By the way, just because of this now I owe Niall and Zayn 100 bucks. Thanks, asswipe.” Liam says before he leaves.

~~~~~~

“How did you know anyway?” Liam asks as he sits across from him at the tea house.

“Last night, Louis was about to dump the love-letters he wrote into the fire, when I noticed the time and stalled him. Luck was on my side and Harry already had a key. So instead of knocking he just barged in. Louis had no time to dump those letters and accidentally left them on the coffee table. It was only a matter of time before Harry noticed those and read them. I knew what it would lead to. They have been making heart-eyes at each other since I saw them together for the first time.” Niall explains.

Liam just whistles and hands him a 100 pound note.

**Author's Note:**

> THANKS FOR READING!!!!!
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> ALL THE LOVE!!
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> LEAVE A KUDOS AND A COMMENT!!!
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> IT'S CALLED BRAIN FOOD!!


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